


The Truths We Spin

by Girl_in_cafe



Series: Avengers! Storybrooke [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed, Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes Returns, F/M, Lost Bucky Barnes, M/M, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Snow White Elements, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girl_in_cafe/pseuds/Girl_in_cafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there were three Kingdoms that existed in perpetual peace. Then a new ruler took power, and he was a Bitter Prince, who took and took but was never satisfied with what he had. He waged war on the other kingdoms for twenty years, but on the eve of his victory, there rose a new alliance: the hunter, the soldier, the vagabond and the princess of spiders. Together, they defeated his armies and captured him. But the Bitter Prince had created a curse that would take them from their world to a place of no happy endings:<br/></p>
<p>Our World.<br/> </p>
<p>This is their story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Janus

Hoof beats disturbed the quiet of a summer afternoon on the beach that separated the Enchanted Forest from the Winter Sea. A horseman thundered out of the forest and onto the Isthmus that connected the mainland to an island the locals had dubbed “The Devil’s Trap.”

Sir Stephen leaned close over the stallion’s ears, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach having little to do with the ribs that were probably broken. His left kneecap was either broken or dislocated, and he could barely see, but he had no time to take stock of his injuries. Not while Bucky was in trouble.

He spared a thought for Natalia and Hawkeye— the hunter had looked pretty bad, last he'd seen him, but Natalia had said that they would be fine, that Stephen should go ahead— had he failed them too?

No. He had to trust that Natalia knew what she was doing, and apart from anything else he didn’t have the authority to disobey her. Besides, she and Hawkeye were fighters, and his King needed him.

His horse snorted and balked as they reached the end of the isthmus, forcing him to rein up. Speaking softly to him, Stephen was able to kick him back into a trot, then a gallop, as he headed down the tunnel of trees to the light that promised a clearing.

He swung down when he reached the clearing and shouldered past young Ironwit and his men, who were ringed around a wood and glass coffin.

“You’re too late,” Sir Anthony Ironwit told him dully. “He stopped breathing…”

Stephen dropped to his knees to scrabble at the fastenings that kept the coffin closed. His hands were shaking. He wanted to scream at Ironwit, to ask him how hell Bucky was supposed to breathe when there was no air.

A cool hand settled on his shoulder. “Open the coffin,” a voice above him ordered. Lady Ironwit.

Stark frowned. “Pep, hon,” he protested, exchanging a glance with a tall man that Stephen recognized as Lord Rhodes.

“Open it,” Stephen echoed. His voice sounded calm. Controlled. “Queen’s orders.”

He felt, rather than saw Stark shake his head behind him. His sight was blurred.

“Please,” he whispered. “At least let me say goodbye.”

Sir Anthony sighed. “You heard the man.”

There was a groaning sound as the lid was dragged back. For the first time, Sir Stephen recognized Dugan and Morita, and realized that the men he had taken for Sir Anthony’s were his own palace guards.

The King’s skin was unnaturally white, and his face wore a slight frown, as if Stephen had just dropped his morning coffee on a fresh uniform. Ironically, not one of Bucky’s rich dark hairs was out of place, and his uniform was pristine. But he was, for all appearances, dead.

Stephen leaned over the coffin, and despite the shuffling and half murmured protests of the men around him, managed to lever the king’s jaws open. He uncorked the small vial he’d kept in his belt, and trickled the liquid into Bucky’s mouth. The Hulk had told him the symptoms were deceptive, had promised that Loki’s antidote would work. But who would trust the ravings of a madman, or the honor of a trickster?

He tilted the King’s head to make sure the liquid went down, then cupped his hands and pushed down on Bucky’s chest again and again, forcing his heart to beat. At last something shifted, and there was a gasp as the chest beneath him expanded with air. Steve barely felt the fingers that stroked his hair, so intent was he on his work. Then the fingers tugged, a rough hand cradled his face, and Steve looked up to his King’s wondering smile.

“Steve?” Bucky murmured, then blinked “You look like shit.”

Stephen rocked back on his heels and started to laugh, then found he couldn’t stop. Bucky frowned a bit muzzily and tried to sit up, to reach him. The others got over their shock and rushed to prop him up.

“You’re looking rather dashing yourself, majesty,” Sir Stephen managed to gasp out. “For a dead man.”

“Dead man?” Bucky asked, then some of the guards started to snicker. “Ironwit. Why am I in a coffin?”

Sir Anthony just shook his head, and started to laugh too. Even Pepper hid a smile behind a well-bred hand.

“You gave us quite a fright your high—Majesty,” she said, and her smile widened. “Welcome back.”

Bucky tensed as memory hit, then smiled at someone. “Nat.”

Sir Stephen swung round, wincing as his ribs protested the abuse. They had all been so intent on the King that nobody had heard her ride up. To his relief, Hawkeye was conscious and upright behind her in the saddle. He was as pale as the King had been, and fresh blood stained his make-shift bandages, but he was alive.  


Natalia dismounted as Bucky sat up, and walked to the coffin. They kissed theatrically, garnering a wolf-whistle from Stark and the guard’s laughter and applause.

“Husband,” Natalia said, pulling back, a small but honest smile playing about her lips. “I believe our coronation feast was interrupted.”

oOoOoOo

Barnes checked his suit again in the overhead mirror of his car, thinking wryly that internet dating wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Take now for example; the internet had been the perfect barrier for Barnes to disguise the fact that he wasn’t actually a woman, and his mark to pretend that he wasn’t a skirt-chasing kleptomaniac. Still, Barnes admitted privately to himself that the fact this was the closest he’d had to a real date in years was a little pathetic. 

He checked the handcuffs he carried then walked into the restaurant, and let out a slow whistle between his teeth. The restaurant was three stories and fancy in a way that would impress a first date, but not arouse their suspicion. His target, Scott Lang had cancelled his credit cards, changed his name, had a friend rent the car Barnes had just impounded, and closed off all but one of his social media accounts.

Spotting his target on the balcony, Barnes told the penguin-suited waiter that he was joining a friend. He took the elevator instead of the stairs, and assessed the position of the table Lang had chosen. He wouldn’t have sacrificed vantage for easy access himself.

He approached the man in question and gave him an indolent once over. “Bobby Newport?” 

Lang jumped and stared at Barnes. “Who’s asking?”

Barnes grinned and stuck out a hand. “Daryl Johnson. We spoke on the internet.”

“No, no, that can’t be right!” Lang said confusedly. “Darla Johnson. I was— wait…that picture, I’m sorry man, I thought you were a woman!”

“The picture does cut off my face a bit, but it’s the only current one I have,” ‘Daryl’ admitted. ‘Bobby’ just shook his head as his date continued mercilessly. “You thought I was a woman? But your profile said that you were gay!” At Lang’s groan, Barnes laughed. “You had a friend make it for you, didn’t you.”

“Goddammit Luis! I’m sorry, my friend’s an asshole. I’m not gay, not that I think that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just not into dudes.” Lang said.

The bounty hunter threw up his hands. “Hey, it’s fine, I have a long standing date with my Nintendo anyway. Just let me sit down until I can call a cab.”

“Sure thing, buddy,” said Lang. Then he smacked himself on the forehead. “Wait a second, you said that it was your birthday today. Man, I’m so sorry.”

A waiter passed by and filled their glasses with water. Barnes shrugged. “Yeah, the big 29. Seriously, don’t worry about it. So, you’re not into dudes huh? Let me guess, off the market for years, perfect family man, until your wife dumped your ass when you stole over 5 billion dollars from your employers.”

It took a second for his words to register. Then Lang was on his feet, but so was Barnes, and Barnes was in his space, blocking his exit.

“Really Scott, your dating profile? I mean, come on. You go through all the trouble of robbing your former employers and giving the money back to their ‘victims’ with your signature on it, thanks for that by the way, I got a twenty dollar rebate.”

“No problem,” Lang answered. He took a step back, but the bounty hunter had subtly maneuvered the two of them so that instead of the stairway, Lang’s back was to the balcony. There was no way out unless he jumped.

“And then your soon to be ex-wife is nice enough to bail you out, you skip town, but you just can’t resist logging into eHarmony.” He took a step forward, but so did Lang. Damn. The man would try to run then. “Now, I understand leaving your wife, she’s already told you that she wants to see other people, but what about your daughter, Scott?”

Lang shoved the table into Barnes, but the bounty hunter jumped back, pivoted, and tackled the other man to the ground.

His quarry looked rather offended. “Well that was just unnecessarily personal.”

“Crime is personal,” Barnes retorted, snapping on the cuffs. “Trust me, better to be the father in prison than the jerk who skipped town.”

He waved to the other diners. “Nothing to see here, everything’s fine.” as he frog-marched Lang out the door. Lang was still complaining as they approached the waiting cop car.

“I mean seriously, man, what do you know about parenting?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Barnes admitted, only after the police car drove away.

oOoOoOoOo

“Look, look, I’m fine I promise. Magic spell, extremely rare poison, whatever, it’s gone now. You fixed me, you see?” the vagabond king said. He was sitting in an armchair before the fire and pretending not to enjoy Stephen’s coddling. He glared at his wife. “Shouldn’t you be fussing over your pet huntsman?”

Natalia rolled her eyes in a distinctly unqueenly fashion. “Hawkeye’s sleeping, and I’m not fussing. I’m just here to make sure that you boys make it on time. You know, the two of you can only miss so many banquets before people start to wonder…”

“They can say what they like. I’m King now,” Bucky said, assuming an authoritative expression. He dropped the act and grinned joyously at Natalie. “We’ve done it. We’ve really done it. The Bitter Prince is defeated, the Kingdom is ours and we can have our happy ending.”

Smiles came easily to everyone these days, perhaps because Bucky had ordered the wine ration of every servant doubled in honor of their victory. Even Hawkeye was as giddy as a teenager when he was awake, and the king and Stephen could barely keep their hands off each other. Victory was intoxicating, and life was a dream, everything bright and shining. Everyone was happy, except his wife.

“You’re getting careless, Buck,” she replied. She didn’t smile back. “So, we have the Kingdom. Now we have to rule it, and we can’t do that unless we keep this discreet.”

“Or if we’ve saved you from artificially induced asphyxiation only for you to die because of an untreated concussion,” Stephen said practically, reaching for the candle.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” the King grinned, catching Stephen's hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Then he turned back to his wife. “It’s fine. We’re fine. It’ll be like before, you with Hawk me with Steve... maybe our family is complicated but it’s ours and we can, we will make this work.” 

“How can we, while Alexei is still alive?” Natalie demanded. “Did you know that the Grand Duke Zola is here tonight, to speak on his behalf? He’s downstairs, right now.”

“Enough.” Bucky replied stubbornly. “I will not begin my reign with a bloodbath, Natalia…”

“And known traitors should walk free?” Stephen interjected. “No, we shouldn’t kill him, no, we have to make sure we never become like him, but right now, safe in his castle, with his people talking to ours, he’s still in a position to do a lot of damage!”

“You too, Steve?” When the man just looked at him steadily, the king pinched the bridge of his nose. “Great. Well, he’s already imprisoned and under heavy guard, no visitors allowed, all communications monitored, but I suppose I could always order his legs hacked off to make him even more helpless!” 

“This is the man who launched a successful coup against my father’s government while in prison,” Natalie argued. “If we can’t punish suspected collaborators, we should at least watch them more closely. He’s still in contact with Prince Loki, and he’s within five miles of the Muscovian border when he shouldn’t be within 80!”

“I promised I’d give him a fair trial, Nat,” the King replied stubbornly. “I can’t move him until the verdict.”

“My father is dead because he didn’t want to execute his kid brother,” Natalie raised her head. “You want to play the white knight, fine, the color suits you. But you’re not being smart, Bucky, and that isn’t like you.” She exhaled. “I’m going to check on Hawk.”

The King watched the door close behind her. “She knows that I’m hanging on to Muscovia by a thread as it is,” Then he rounded on Stephen. “That was quite the ambush, Soldier. It's great the two of you are getting along, but why don’t you save us all time and get to the point of whatever this is!” 

“She wants you to send her to Muscovia, and we think I should be the one in charge of guarding the Prince.” Stephen said swiftly. “You know she’s the only one with a prayer of stabilizing the region and I...”

The king threw up his hands. “My god, what do you two even need me for, you seem to be able to run the Kingdom just fine on your own!”

Sir Stephen said nothing, and the King sighed.

“I’ve already appointed Nicholas Wroth as temporary regent to Muscovia and I plan to put the de Sousas on babysitting duty. They will do fine. Now where’s my uniform?”

Stephen helped him dress in silence, then turned to leave.

“She’s pregnant.” Stephen stopped but didn’t look at him. “She’s pregnant and it’s mine. Turns out that magic is good for something, but the point is the war is over. We won. Why…” Bucky’s voice cracked. “Why can’t that mean that I get to spend my time with the people I care about?”

oOoOoOoOo

“That a good book? Ooh, I love fairy tales.” 

Peter looked up to see a young woman with brown hair leaning across the aisle of the bus. “Come on, help me out here. My cellphone is out of power.”

Peter laughed. “No,” he admitted shyly. He was barely 11, but he could still tell that she was pretty.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “No, what?”

“They aren’t fairy tales. I don’t think fairy tales are supposed to be sad.”

“Really kid? Ever heard of Hans Christian Anderson?” Peter shook his head. The woman scowled. “Great. I grew up in the foster system and I still… There is a world beyond Disney, my young padowan.” She held out a hand. “The name’s Skye.”

“Peter. Peter Nicholas James Alexander Carter Pierce.”

“Dude that is like, a lot of names.” Skye laughed. 

“My parents used to argue a lot.” Peter admitted. “I think.”

The stranger shook her head. “Just makes me even happier I chose my own. Skye. Short and sweet, with a little personality to it. But look, here’s my stop.”

The sign above the bus driver read BOSTON. She made to get up.

“Have you ever thought they were real?” Peter blurted suddenly, without knowing why. This wasn’t part of the plan. “Fairy tales?”

Skye turned back to face him, surprised. “I used to wish they were,” she admitted. “Every girl wants to be a princess, right? Although in my case I would have settled for awesome ninja warrior. Look, kid, do your parents…”

“It’s my stop too, actually,” Peter interrupted, monotone. "I’m here visiting my uncle. It was nice meeting you, Skye.”

If the story wasn’t real, he would know soon enough. But if it was… he had to find his mother. And that meant finding the Vagabond King, the only man who could bring back the happy endings.


	2. Well This Is Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barnes snorted. “Storybrooke, Maine, huh? Would have chosen Siberia, myself.”
> 
> In which Bucky Barnes learns that logic has no place in family arguments.

Barnes stepped into his apartment and immediately stubbed his toe on the box he’d rummaged through to find a suit for his 'date.' He never stayed anywhere for more than six months, which didn't really bother him until he had to find something, as he was always too lazy to unpack more than a few books, his Nintendo, some clothes and his leather jacket.

He took a beer from the fridge and toasted the air silently. Just as he had settled down for an evening of video-games and bad television, the doorbell rang. Barnes sighed, but went to answer it.

“Uh, can I help you?” he asked. A boy who couldn’t be more than ten was standing in the hallway, looking at him expectantly.

“My name is Peter Nicholas James Alexander Pierce. Are you James Barnes?” the kid asked, with a ridiculously dignified air.

“Yeah,” Barnes replied, a bit stunned.

“I’m your son.” Peter said, bouncing up a little on his toes before subsiding.

Barnes blinked and shook his head. “Run that by me again?”

“I’m your son.” Peter repeated, face falling. “Can I— I mean may I come in?”

He must have taken Barnes’s frozen horror for permission because he pushed past him into the apartment. Barnes stared at the vacant doorway for a second, then spun around.

“Whoah, hey kid. Kid!” he said, catching up to Peter in the kitchen. “I don’t have a son, at least that I know of. Where are your parents?”

“Eleven years ago, a baby was left by the side of the road with only a birth certificate,” the kid stated flatly. “Your name was on it. My birth certificate. That’s me.”

Barnes pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he even had a steady girlfriend ten years ago? 

“Give me a minute,” he told Peter, and sat down hard, face in hands.

“Do you have any water or something? I’m thirsty,” the kid piped. Barnes groaned but got up and filled a mug with tap water.

“Thank you,” Pet— the kid said. The bounty hunter studied his unexpected house-guest. The eyes weren’t his, except maybe their shape, but the kid’s nose was kind of like… what was he thinking, it couldn’t be… He realized that Peter had kept talking, apparently not noticing his inattention.

“Wait what! Go where?” Barnes asked, catching the thread of the conversation.

“You have to come home with me,” Peter said, eyes shining with excitement.

Barnes thumped his head against the counter-table-island thing, once, then got up. “Alright, for arguments sake, say I call the cops.”

“Then I’ll tell them you kidnapped me,” the little horror replied logically.

“Great! Free paternity test,” the bounty hunter said uncharitably, picking up the phone and starting to dial.

“No, don’t call the cops!” Peter cried so desperately that Barnes stopped. “Please, just come home with me.”

Barnes shook his head. “Okay, kid, here’s how we’re going to play this. You have two choices here: the police, or your parents. Now I wouldn’t want to influence your decision…”

“If you call them now my father will destroy you! You’d never see me again!” Peter was starting to turn red.

“Beginning to feel a bit ambushed here,” Barnes complained, then sighed. “Here’s the thing, I have a lot of practice telling when people are lying to me. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on... No?”

He pressed send.

“Wait, at least don’t send me back in a police car!” the manipulative little shit said desperately. “I know you don’t remember me but I— Please take me home.” his voice wobbled artfully. Barnes felt himself fall for it, hook, line and sinker. He put down the phone.

“Where’s home?” he asked, resigning himself.

“Storybrooke, Maine.”

“Storybrooke. Seriously?” Barnes groaned. “Alrighty then, let’s get you back to Storybrooke.”

oOoOoOoOo

The King found his wife watching the guardsmen spar in the courtyard. He glanced at the soldiers and grinned. It was Hawkeye’s first day back, but the other guards were refusing to go too hard on the recovering hunter, fearing the retribution of the Queen or the disappointment of Sir Stephen.

“You didn’t come to council today. I’m beginning to think you don’t like us,” Bucky said lightly, not wishing to anger his friend. His wife was so vulnerable these days, scared, though she pretended otherwise, had been so ever since he turned her uncle over to the de Sousas.

Natalia closed her eyes, enjoying the sunshine. “Didn’t want my pregnancy hormones to interrupt ‘super important council business.’”

Bucky winced. “Ironwit has the delicacy of a Wodener. Shall I chop off his head?”

In the yard, Hawkeye was taunting Falsworth, trying to get the viscount to land a hit.

Natalie pretended to consider it, then shook her head. “I would miss Pepper. Did you know, she’s organized it so all the servants are knitting baby clothes in their spare time? We’ll have enough for an army by the time she’s finished.”

Bucky laughed, and Natalie managed a tiny smile.

“Please, Nat, just tell me what I can do. I know you don’t feel safe with your uncle out there but…”

“No, you were right,” she interrupted to his surprise. Natalie smiled again, but there was still something wrong with her expression. “I guess I just don’t know how to be happy.”

As if he’d heard them, Hawkeye looked up. “Hey majesty, would you tell this lout that the sorcerer I had a disagreement with didn’t turn me into glass?”

Falsworth rapped him on the head, none too gently. “I think he might have turned your brains into oatmeal, see there… ah but don’t worry. Shouldn’t affect your intelligence much.”

“That’s it,” Hawkeye growled. “Have at thee, you villainous fiend!”

He started hacking at the viscount in earnest, then kicked Falsworth in the chest, sending him sprawling. Hawk crowed his victory then fell when the other man tackled him. Swords forgotten, the two men rolled in the dust, scuffling.

“That’s enough, you two, I’m calling this match a draw…” Sir Stephen started, stepping forward, then stopped as he tripped over a barrel, crashing into Morita who went down with an ‘oof.’ Dugan dived in, and soon the entire courtyard resembled a bar brawl.

Bucky laughed and called, “Okay children, Mommy and Daddy are going inside now. Do you think you can behave yourselves?”

One of them, probably Jones, flipped him a bird. Bucky laughed again, then felt Natalia’s eyes on his face.

“You could let me talk to him,” she suggested, expression carefully blank. 

The King didn’t have to ask who. “No. It’s too dangerous. Apart from anything else, the doctors says that you’re too far along to travel safely.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” his wife snapped, then softened. “I would never do anything to harm our baby. But Bucky, he killed my parents. I’ve been running from him my entire life, and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until I see that he can’t hurt us.”

The king sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to see Prince Loki instead? We’ve just relocated him to the Forbidden Fortress. They say he can see the future.”

Natalie’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m sure. Besides, we haven’t talked to Lady Margaret in ages.”

oOoOoOoOo

Barnes and Peter drove on in sullen silence, the former pretending not to notice the glances the kid kept sneaking at him. All attempts at conversation had gone nowhere. He had asked Peter why he had run away, but the kid just talked about some book as if he should know about it, then pulled out said book and ignored him except to ask for snacks, make cryptic comments, ask about his mother, and generally make Barnes want to strangle him.

All in all, the bounty hunter couldn’t have been gladder to be pulling off the interstate, but as he did, he realized he was missing a crucial piece of information.

“What’s your address, kid?” he grunted. Peter didn’t even look up. He tried again. “The location of your enchanted palace, my liege?”

Peter spoke up for the first time since Barnes had suggested therapy. “I never said it was enchanted.”

“Well, that sucks.” Barnes replied, trying to lighten the mood. “Fairy tales are real and you don’t even get a magic castle out of the deal?”

“Wait, but, you said enchanted. Why did you say that word, specifically!” Peter’s face was hopeful, but Barnes just felt irritated.

“I don’t know. I just said it. Kid…”

“I have a name.”

“Sure you do. Peter, then. You really believe that the characters in your story are real?” Barnes asked, navigating through a town that looked as though it was about to be swallowed by the surrounding forest.

“Stop the car,” Peter said so sharply that Barnes slammed on the brakes. His station wagon had screeched to a halt before he realized there was nothing in the road. They were in front of a tall building that proved to be a clock tower. The boy unbuckled his seat-belt and jumped out, leaving Barnes no choice but to follow.

“Look, Peter, it’s been a long night for all of us, and I’m sure your parents are frantic. I mean, it’s already…” he paused. “8:15?”

“That clock hasn’t moved in my entire life.” Peter was facing away from him, but he turned. “Nothing in this town ever changes, not ever, but I do! I’m telling the truth!”

Barnes sighed. “Just because you believe something doesn’t make it true.”

“But it is! And you should know that better than anyone!” Peter’s voice had risen. “You’re just like the rest of them. Why can’t you remember who you are?!”

“Kid…”

“Peter! And you think I’m crazy, but you shouldn’t. I bet you don’t remember your parents. I know you don’t have any memories of anything past eleven years ago, but you were in love! You had a family, and I could help you if you’d just listen!” 

Barnes controlled himself with an effort. Peter was ten and in a temper; even if his words hit too close to home he shouldn’t react to them. “I need your…”

“After the Bitter Prince lost the war, you imprisoned him, but he escaped and decided that if he couldn't beat you, he would punish you instead! He forced his sorcerer to create a curse that allowed him to travel to a new world, and create his own world within in, a world frozen in time and full of the people who wronged him!”

Barnes snorted. “Storybrooke, Maine, huh? Would have chosen Siberia, myself.”

“And now they’re trapped.” Peter confirmed, ignoring the last part of his sentence. Barnes raised an eyebrow. “It’s true! No one can leave except him, because when we do, bad things happen!”

“Peter!” someone called, and a ruffled-looking man ran up, dog panting after him. “Is everything alright? Peggy’s been frantic. Who’s this?”

“I’m just trying to give him a ride home,” Barnes said, hands up.

The strange man gave a vaguely threatening look, clearly deciding whether or not to call the police.

“He’s my dad, Bruce.” Peter crouched to pet the large German shepherd next to him.

“O—Oh!” The man said, obviously startled but not quite reassured.

“Hey, do you know where he lives?” Barnes asked, glancing at Peter. “Little punk won’t tell me his address.”

“Yeah, sure right up on Mifflin Street, the mayor’s house is the biggest one on the block,” Bruce replied, still eyeing him. “I’ll call ahead.”

James looked at Peter accusingly. “You’re the mayor’s kid?”

The other man ignored him. “Hey, little man, I don’t want to complain or anything, but your little field trip made you miss our session. And after I had Pepper bake us cookies.”

“This was important!” Peter couldn’t quite meet his gaze.

“You can’t keep on running away, Peter, we’ve talked about this,” Bruce scolded. “If you start running now, how will you know when to stop? Your mom is really worried about you; what did I tell you about us adults? We’re not as brave as you are.” Then he looked up at James. “Make sure you get him home,” he warned, then walked off, whistling.

James turned to Peter. “So that was your shrink, huh? He doesn’t seem cursed to me.”

“I’m not crazy. He’s the one that needs help!” Peter protested.

“Because he doesn’t know that he’s a fairy tale character,” James shook his head with a smile. “You don’t give up, do you kid? Okay, I’ll play. Who is he supposed to be? Jiminy Cricket? Zazu maybe?”

“Disney characters don’t exist,” the kid replied loftily.

“Of course not,” James muttered. “Cause that would be ridiculous.” 

oOoOoOoO

“… completely ridiculous, and I mean so far into the realm of the ridiculous we might as well plant a flag!” Sir Anthony ranted. “We are at least fifty years from being able to create a curse that could destroy the entire world!”

“Well that’s comforting,” Hawkeye muttered to the Lord of Falcon Ridge, who snorted.

“Of course Loki would claim Zola has such a curse, he’s our prisoner! He wants us to think he’s more valuable than he actually is!”

“My Uncle told me something very similar,” the queen interrupted him. Her calm demeanor was at odds with the chaos of the rest of the room. “And Lord Daniel told me that before Alexei escaped, he spoke repeatedly of a power that could ‘destroy our world.’”

“Curse or no curse we need to face him head on, and we won’t get a better chance than this!” Sir Stephen argued. “Let’s attack now, while the army doesn’t have its head.”

“He doesn’t need an army, he has a curse!” Lord Rhodes snapped, throwing down his pen. “And a frontal attack may force him to use it the sooner!”

Sir Stephen’s fist crashed down on the table. “We can’t just do nothing. He has Margaret!”

“And my little brother,” the queen reminded him, eyes narrowed.

“Quiet.” 

They all turned to look at the King. Bucky pushed his chair back and stood up. 

“I will declare martial law and triple the border patrol until my royal cousin is found…” Stephen started to interrupt but the King raised his voice. “Lord Falcon, you’re in charge of finding him, Ironwit…”

“Which one, the drunkard or the fool?” Duke Hogarth joked, tone belied by the dark circles under his eyes. He had been particularly fond of Lady Margaret de Sousa. 

“Both,” the King answered simply. “You two, the Hulk, and Reed if we can find him. You four are the greatest minds of the Enchanted Forest, and I’m counting on you to figure something out. I’ve dispatched Wroth from Muscovy to find out as much about the curse…”

There was a loud groaning noise. The council turned to see the doors of the Great Hall open, revealing a gigantic tree which Dum Dum and a few other palace guards were struggling to push in. The strange procession was supervised by a tall man with an eyepatch.

The King raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?”

“Believe it or not your majesty,” General Wroth replied, “This tree is our only hope.”

Silence. Then Hawkeye said, “Let’s go back to Steve’s idea.”

“Don’t be fooled by its humble appearance, my Lord Huntsman,” the general warned. “This tree has been around since the beginning of time.”

“Great! I’ll alert the menagerie,” Sir Anthony snapped.

“The legend goes that the man who would find the keys to eternity would be conceived beneath this tree. But he would be a bitter Prince and use his knowledge to bring about the end of days,” Wroth continued, ignoring him. He turned to the master craftsman. “Can you fashion this tree into a shelter?”

Master Dernier turned to the Duke. “I could use your help mon ami, you and your son. Between the three of us, we can hollow out this log.”

“This tree will allow whoever enters it to survive the curse,” Wroth looked directly at the King. “But there is a catch. It can only protect one. Here the legend gets a bit vague…” 

“What a refreshing change,” King Buchanan interrupted wryly.

“Some say that this person destroys the Bitter Prince and brings back our happy endings. In another… well, ladies and gentlemen, we might not be able save our world, but we can damn well avenge it.”

There was silence. Then the King sighed. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who?”

“Well the legend doesn’t exactly name the person,” Fury admitted. “It refer to them as ‘the living embodiment of hope.”

As one, they all turned to face Queen Natalia.

oOoOoOoOo

“Please don’t take me back there!” Peter pleaded.

Barnes groaned. “I have to, they’re your parents; they must be worried sick!”

“This is for my parents. My mom, she must be cursed, because otherwise why would she stay with my Dad? He’s pure evil!”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” Barnes started, but Peter was undeterred.

“He is evil!” the boy shouted, stamping his foot. “He doesn’t love us, he only pretends too!”

“Kid,” Barnes repeated, a little helplessly, because what could he say to that, really?

Someone must have heard the little boy yelling, because just then a light flicked on, and a woman ran out shouting for Peter. Barnes had the impression of dark hair and a grey dress before he was shoved backwards and on the wrong side of a mean right hook.

Barnes stumbled, but the woman ignored him and knelt, pulling the boy into a hug. “Are you okay, darling, did he hurt you?”

He could see two other men by the light of the doorway, but he couldn’t get a good look at either before one of them slammed him against a tree. Even in the dim light, he thought this man was rather older than the woman.

“Who are you? What have you done to my son?!” 

The other man tried to pull the first off him, but Barnes had frozen. That voice...

“Stop!” Peter yelled. He detached himself from his mother. “He didn’t do anything! He’s my real dad, and I wanted to find him so I wouldn’t have to keep living in this town of fakes!” 

Then he ran into the house and up the stairs, slamming the door to what was probably his bedroom behind him.

The older man let him go and put his arm around the woman who had punched him. She looked distraught and still somewhat accusing. “You’re Peter’s biological father?

Barnes straightened, and felt his cheek gingerly. It would probably bruise. “Hi?”

“I’ll check your boy out, make sure he’s okay,” the other man said, light glinting off a badge as he turned. “Just keep him here until then, Senator.”

Senator? Barnes felt like he’d been doused with a bucket of ice. That last name in Peter’s frankly ridiculous list of them. Pierce. Oh God, the man in front of them was one of the most powerful men in Washington! “…apologize for the inconvenience, Wilson, but thank you…” the man was saying. 

“Fancy a drink?” he asked the bounty hunter, rubbing his wife’s arm soothingly. Barnes let himself be ushered inside, still processing how close he had come to a one-way ticket to Guantanamo.

“If you’re the senator, then who’s the mayor?” Barnes asked as they entered the house.

“That would be me,” said the beautiful woman. “Megan Carter Pierce, mayor three terms and counting. I’m sorry I punched you, but I’m sure you can appreciate the day we’ve been having.”

Inside their tastefully decorated yet unforgivingly large living room, Barnes began to relax. The couple was obviously shaken, but he couldn’t blame them, given the situation.

“How did he find me?” He asked the senator, who seemed the less dangerous of the two.

“No idea,” the woman— Megan answered instead. “We adopted him through the usual channels when he was three weeks old. It was a closed adoption, and we were assured that the birth parents wanted no part of him.”

“I didn’t even know he existed until a few hours ago,” Barnes replied blankly.

“And the mother?” the mayor asked, eyes direct. “Where is she?”

Barnes winced, and shook his head. “I just don’t know. Peter told me there was a blank where his mother’s name should have been on the birth certificate. I was eighteen, and in the army at the time. She could have been one of a number of girls.”

He flushed as the mayor leveled him an unimpressed look. “And do we have to worry about you, Mr. Barnes?” She said, accepting the drink her husband offered her.

“Absolutely not,” the bounty hunter promised, “I just wanted to see him safely home.”

“Lay off him, Pegs, he’s telling the truth,” said the sheriff lightly, coming down the stairs. “Henry’s fine, apart from being a tired little boy.”

“Thank you, Wilson,” said the Senator. The other man shot Barnes a curious look but left. “I’m sorry our son dragged you out of your life, Mr. Barnes. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“He’s eleven,” Megan said, glaring at her husband. “He’s eleven and he just found out he’s adopted. If you two can’t figure out why he’s upset than I shan’t bother telling you!” 

In the awkward silence that followed her exit, Barnes heard another door close upstairs. No doubt the mayor had gone to see for herself if her son was alright.

“I don’t think your wife likes me,” he confided to Pierce.

The senator laughed. “Don’t worry about it. She doesn’t even like me, most days. I’ve spent a disproportionate amount of the last sixteen years winning her approval. But such is the lot of an old man with a beautiful wife.” His gaze caught on the far window, and he seemed to speaking to himself. “My absences in Washington are hard on them, of course they are, but there’s no help for it. Peggy is an ambitious woman, and she has kept this town afloat from force of will more than anything else.”

“You have to understand, with her as the mayor and me down Washington, finding time for Henry has been tricky,” Senator Pierce continued, eyes boring into Barnes’s. “You have a job, I assume?”

“I keep busy,” Barnes hedged. Something about the older man made him uneasy.

“Imagine having four of them: husband, father, salesman, and speaker.” The senator handed him a drink, which James accepted. “There are sacrifices that come with being a politician, but one of the worst is that I have limited time with which to influence my son. When I’m here, I push for order. Am I strict? I suppose, but I just want the best for him. I don’t think that makes me evil, do you?”

“I’m sure he just thinks you’re evil because of the whole fairy tale thing,” Barnes replied, looking down at his glass.

The senator frowned. “What fairy tale thing?” 

“Oh you know, his book,” Barnes forced a smile, “He thinks that everyone is a character in it. Like his shrink, he’s some sort of magician, I think.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Pierce replied rather coldly. “What book? My son isn’t allowed to read fiction. Peggy!” he called.

“I’m sure it’s none of my business,” Barnes said hastily. He set down his glass and got up. “I came in from Boston, I really should be heading back.”

“I’ll show you out,” Pierce stood up. The last thing Barnes saw before the door was closed in his face was Megan’s face on the stair.

If he saw Peter watch him leave through the window, well then. He wasn’t going to say anything.


	3. Le Infant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man grinned and displayed handcuffed wrists. “Welcome to hell. I won’t ask if you don't."
> 
> In which Bucky/Barnes re-learns the particulars of Murphy's Law.

Despite the rain, Barnes kept his foot on the accelerator as he approached the town perimeter, marked by the sign. He couldn’t risk looking back, so he glanced at the seat beside him instead, then shook his head with a smile. He had seen Peter take the book into the house, yet there it was.

“Sneaky bastard. How’d you get that past mama bear, huh?” Barnes smiled.

He looked back through his windshield in time to see a large mass blocking him. He swerved; too quickly, then his car spun out and hit something with a sickening crunch.

Although he couldn’t hear it, the wolf howled.

oOoOoOoOo

Hawkeye reached the doorway of the royal suite and paused, watching the queen pace the balcony like a caged animal. Even heavy with another man’s child, she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The shouts of the Ironwits and the master architect echoed from the inner courtyard. After months of work, there were only now putting the finishing touches on the wardrobe, as it had transpired that regular metal couldn't cut wood strong enough to withstand the apocalypse. General Wroth had been lucky enough to find the tree already felled. Well, luck, or...

“Bad day?” Hawkeye asked the redhead, leaning against the tapestried wall.

Natalie turned and gave him a tight smile. “Had better. Found Steve yet?”

The hunter sighed. To say Stephen hadn’t taken the King’s refusal to let him chase after the Prince well was like saying that the people of the Enchanted Forest were a little worried about their imminent doom. When the soldier hadn’t shown up for breakfast that morning, the King had ordered Hawkeye to find him and drag him back if necessary. As it turned out, Sir Stephen had been taking a walk.

“The man is a menace,” Hawkeye groused. “Forget the doomsday curse, Steve’s puppy eyes are the real weapon of mass destruction.”

Natalie laughed and Hawk smiled, happy to see her a better mood. At her nod, he joined her on the balcony, and they leaned companionably against the rail. After a second, she tilted her face up to him and they kissed, lazily.

“You were wrong you know,” she said, stepping back a little.

“It’s been known to happen,” Hawkeye admitted. “About what?”

“Caring.” 

It took him a second to place the conversation. “What makes you say that?”

She ignored his question. “It isn’t worth it. It hurts too much, you know? That I might lose my entire world. Worse, to not recognize my own child…" Her knees buckled, and he rushed forward to catch her. “That would be the worst thing, you understand? The only thing I couldn’t survive.”

“Nat!” said Hawkeye urgently, “What’s going on?”

“My water just broke. Get my husband, get doc, and Steve!”

But the hunter had barely set her down on the bed when the yelling started.

“The curse!” came the cry. “It’s here, it’s here!”

oOoOoOoOo

Barnes woke up with a pounding headache and a bitter taste in his mouth. Neither was particularly surprising, but the singing was new.

“Allons les infants de la Patrie/ le jour de glorie est arrive!” The small man in the cell next to him sang. He was obviously drunk.

“Have you come to join me, my brother?” the man asked him, a bit plaintively.

“Dufour, leave the gentleman alone, you’ll scare him off.” A sardonic voice echoed from the other side of the room. Barnes glanced up to see an old man wheel back in an office chair. The man grinned and displayed handcuffed wrists. “Welcome to hell. I won’t ask if you don’t.”

He turned back to the other man. “The mayor boy’s biological father. May he rest in peace.”

“I was just dropping him off!” Barnes protested for the umpteenth time.

The old man scoffed. “Sure, sure. I told my son something similar every day until the day he left, and I don’t think he ever believed me. Or cared for that matter. Still, now he’s rich, and I’m not, so there’s a sort of success. The name’s Howard, and Frenchie over there goes by Jacques Dufour.”

“James Barnes,” the bounty hunter replied, blinking. He had tried to leave Storybrooke, had gotten as far as the sign, then… “Call me Jim.”

Just then, the other man from last night entered. “Dufour, my man, good news! The lawyer has successfully argued both sides of your case. It was a draw: you’re free to go. You too, Stark.” 

As the two men left, the sheriff started whistling a distinctive tune. Barnes glared at him. 

“Seriously?”

Sheriff Wilson winked unapologetically. “Well then, Mr. Barnes, known in some circles as ‘conceited prat’ and ‘right bastard,’ it seems you drank more than you thought at the Senator’s house.”

Barnes rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t drunk, there was a wolf in the middle of the road.”

The sheriff looked less than impressed. “Whatever you say, man.”

The door to the sheriff station opened, and the mayor rushed in.

“Sam! I need your help, Peter’s run away—” Peggy stopped, noticing Barnes. “You again. What have you done with him this time?”

Barnes sighed. “Lady, I haven’t seen him since I dropped him at your place, and I seem to have a pretty good alibi. Have you asked his friends?”

“He doesn't have any friends,” Peggy admitted. “He's a bit of a loner, actually.”

The bounty hunter gave her a considering look. “What’s your policy on minor traffic infractions?”

 

Back at the Senator’s mansion, Barnes could barely suppress a smile. “Smart kid, cleared his inbox. But I’m smart too.” He held up his keys, revealing the flash drive on his keychain.

“My methods are a bit more old-fashioned.” Sam admitted as he helped Barnes looked over Peter’s recovered emails. “Pounding the pavement, knocking on doors…”

“You’re on salary, I get paid for delivery,” the bounty hunter retorted dryly. “Pounding pavement isn’t a luxury I get… huh. There’s a receipt for a website. Findbirthcertificate.org.”

“That can’t be cheap.” Peggy leaned over his other shoulder. “Look, it says he paid for it with a credit card. Peter's eleven, he doesn't have one. Can you pull up the transaction record?”

“Your wish is my command,” Barnes replied flippantly, hitting a few keys. “Well. It seems the card he used belongs to one Steven Grant Rogers… you know him?”

Sam and Peggy were exchanging relieved smiles.

“Yes, he’s Peter’s teacher,” the mayor answered. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Let me come with,” Barnes suggested, standing up. Peggy was no fool, but he knew a thing or two about trusted authority figures. He would have to see this Rogers person for himself.

oOoOoOoOo

Sir Stephen grimly rallied the archers for another volley. Under normal circumstances, it would have taken weeks, if not months for a besieging force to break into the castle, but with the Bitter Prince’s curse destroying everything in its path, they would be lucky to last five minutes.

They needed more time than that to get Natalia to safety. Stephen did not begrudge her survival; he and Bucky would die, this day, or the next, but Nat had a child.

“Fire at will, boys!” the soldier shouted. “Let’s give these bastard’s something to think about!”

 

Bucky clutched his wife’s hand as another scream tore from her throat. He exchanged a helpless glance with Hawk, who was hovering in the doorway. Sweat beaded Natalie's forehead as she tried in vain not to push.

He did his best to ignore the shouts and yells from the front of the castle. The Bitter Prince’s army was attacking in force. Dimly, Bucky wondered where Steve was, but he couldn’t spare him more than a thought as Natalie screamed again. 

“Reed, this isn’t working, the baby’s coming now!” she cried, gasping for breath.

“No, no, no,” Bucky clutched her hand tighter. “The wardrobe can only take one. Doc, do something!”

But they were fighting against nature as well as time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what Dernier is singing:
> 
> http://www.metrolyrics.com/la-marseillaise-lyrics-the-national-anthem-of-the-french-republic.html


	4. Familiar a Gleam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We have to give him his best chance."
> 
> In which Bucky/Barnes makes a choice, and another is made for him.

Peggy’s high heels clicked on the cheap linoleum of the school hallway. Barnes was surprised to find the son of a senator attending public school, but reminded himself it was none of his business.

He and Peggy entered a classroom towards the end of the hallway. To his surprise, instead of marching up and demanding to know the whereabouts of her son, Peggy signaled him to wait quietly in the back for the lesson to finish. A man with blond hair glanced up at their entrance and smiled.

Barnes was destroyed.

The man in the classroom was short and slight, with a surprisingly strong jaw and a perpetually earnest expression. But it was the eyes that did it. Sky-blue, framed with long, pale lashes, Barnes didn’t know how to explain it he just— would follow those eyes anywhere.

He only realized he was staring when the young man coughed, and, blushing a bit, returned to his lecture.

“Remember that your birdhouse is a home, not a cage. Birds are wild creatures, and you must respect that. These houses are for them, not us. Feed them, love them, take care of them, but let them fly away. If they love you, they will always come back.”

The bell rang and the students tumbled to their feet. “We’ll pick this up after recess. No running!”

As the teacher made his way towards them, he was accosted by a little girl who shyly handed him an apple. 

“Thank you, Libby,” he smiled, then straightened. “Pe— Madame Mayor. What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Steve, have you seen Peter at all today?” Peggy seemed rather embarrassed.

Rogers frowned. “I assumed he was home sick with you. What—” His gaze flicked to Barnes, “I uh— had noticed that my credit card was missing.”

The mayor sighed. “I’m sorry. It appears my son used your card to find his birth certificate online, and buy a one way bus ticket to Boston to find his biological father.”

Barnes raised a hand. “Hi. That’s me.”

Rogers glanced at him, then away. “Clever boy, maybe I shouldn’t have given him that book.” 

“What in the hell is this book I keep hearing about,” asked an irritated voice from the doorway. Barnes whirled to find the Senator with a distinctly sheepish looking Sam at his heels. 

“What does this book have to do with my son? Well, Mr. Rogers?”

“Just some old stories I gave him.” Rogers replied, refusing to be intimidated. “As you know, Senator, your son is very creative, and smart, but a bit lonely. He needed it.”

“What he needs is a dose of reality,” Pierce said. His voice was calm, but there was something ugly beneath it. He turned to his wife. “Darling, come on. This is a waste of time.”

He swept past Barnes with a curt, “Have a nice trip back to Boston.”

Once the two were gone, the bounty hunter knelt to help Rogers pick up the books he’d knocked over when the Senator entered.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Barnes said apologetically. “I don’t quite know how I got here, I didn’t even know Peter existed before yesterday.”

Rogers laughed. “Big surprise, was it?” Barnes groaned assent. The teacher nodded at his bruise. “I see Peggy took a swing at you.”

The bounty hunter smiled self-consciously as Rogers laughed again. He could get used to hearing that sound.

“What’s this book about anyway?” Barnes asked curiously, then remembered himself. “James Barnes. Call me Jim.”

Rogers had a surprisingly strong grip. “Steve Rogers. Call me Steve,” and then, noticing Barnes’s expectant look, “Oh! The book. It’s a sort of unconventional fairy tale, but that’s not what’s important. The characters, they’re not perfect, but they have a strong sense of family.”

“His father does seem a bit of a hardass,” Barnes allowed.

“No, well yes, it’s partially him.” Steve floundered, adorably. “But also, Peggy works so hard, and she can’t be there all the time, and with his father down in Washington I think he feels…”

“Abandoned?” Barnes watched Steve’s face closely. 

The teacher flushed. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was judging you. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t.” Barnes promised. “I guess I just have a guilty conscience.”

Steve closed his eyes. “Look, I just wanted to give the kid a bit of hope. Believing in the possibility of a happy ending… that’s a very powerful thing.”

“You know where he is, don’t you?” Barnes realized. “And so does Carter. As soon as she saw your name…”

“It’s always better when Peter comes back on his own,” Steve sighed. “Every kid needs one safe place, you know? But if you want to see him again before you leave, then I would check his castle.”

oOoOoOo

Footsteps in the corridor, and young Ironwit's face in the doorway. “It’s ready, sire.” 

Reed shook his head as Bucky started to pick her up. “It’s too late. We can’t move her.”

In that second, Bucky knew he was going to die. Hawkeye's expression mirrored his realization. Natalie screamed again, although she hadn’t followed the conversation. 

“It’s almost over your majesty,” Reed coaxed. “Now push!”

 

Sir Stephen and the remaining guards regrouped at the inner wall. Most of his men were dead, swallowed by the fog or hacked to pieces by Muscovite swords; only the Hulk was making any headway. He glanced over the parapet. The enemy glowed green with the enchantment that made them nearly invincible.

“Go!” a voice shouted in his ear. Lord Falcon. “Go— get out of here, the cause is lost!” When he didn’t respond, the other man gave him a push. “Protect the King! That’s an order, Captain!” 

Sir Stephen obeyed, hating himself with every step. There was nothing he could do, and if he was going to die, he'd rather it be with Bucky. Besides, the queen would be safely away by now, surely.

 

The queen looked down at her baby with an expression Bucky had never seen before. Hawkeye, too, judge by his stunned expression. She was radiant.

“Hey, little guy,” she said, voice cracking. Impulsively, Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead and together, they stared down at their son in awe.

“His name is Nicholas,” she told him. Natalie's hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and she was still panting, but she had never looked so happy. “For my father.” She tickled the baby’s chin, and he cooed. “Hey Nicholas, are you mine, are you really mine?”

A scream from outside the castle shattered the stillness of the room, and horrified realization crashed over her lovely face.

“You have to take him,” Natalie realized, sounding dazed. “He has to go through the wardrobe.”

“No, I can’t, I won’t, not ever,” Bucky promised, barely aware of what he was saying, just wanting to wipe that expression from his wife’s face. “We’ll stay here, we’ll stay together.”

“Majesties!” Ironwit hissed impatiently. “If someone’s going, they have to go now!”

Bucky glared at him, then felt strong fingers tug his sleeve. He looked down to see his wife’s emerald eyes boring into his. 

“You have to,” she repeated. “We have to give him his best chance.”

Bucky kept shaking his head, even as his wife kissed the baby and murmured her goodbye. He mechanically accepted the bundle Natalia offered him, and pressed his forehead to hers, briefly.

As he reached the door, he heard her say, “Hawk, with me,” but then someone was pulling him down the passageway, cursing him for lost time.

“Of course, Ironwit,” the King remembered, instantly apologetic. “You must find Pepper.”

Sir Anthony paused for a moment. “I sent her home to Ironsworth,” he said. His estate was in the direction the fog had come from.

Something was pushed at his chest. A sword, sheathed. “I’ve never been quite the swordsman you are,” the other man admitted. “And you’ll need it.”

He was right, a few corridors and broken doors later. They came across Steve, who was battling five guardsmen. Bucky blinked. Were they glowing? Then he thrust his son at Ironwit with a curse and rushed to help.

He knew this game, fighting back to back with Steve. It was one of his favorites. Even with magic on their side, the Muscovites didn’t stand a chance. The vagabond and the soldier were too skilled individually, too practiced together. There was no glory in their victory, only familiarity.

Then they were at the entrance to the inner courtyard, Ironwit struggling with the locked door. Steve pushed him aside and kicked through it as if it were cardboard, and if Bucky had never been grateful for Erskine’s magic before, he was now.

Steve went through, then shouted warning. Time slowed as Bucky pushed him aside and saw three Muscovite guardsman. They were staring at him. He looked down, and there was a sword hilt buried in his chest. One of them had run him through.

Bucky breathed out through his nose, staring at the sky. Someone—Steve screamed. Black smoke covered the courtyard, sinking slowly. Threat level minimal. Above him was the sound of clanging metal, then chokes and gurgled gasps.

Then there were hands on him, Steve’s hands, stroking his hair, and Steve’s lips on his. Then the soldier pulled back and peppered his face with kisses. What a way to die. ,

But there was something he needed to know. 

“Nicholas.” He croaked. “My son?”

“He’s safe, Ironwit’s putting him in the wardrobe.”

There was another voice overhead, and Stevie looked away from him. His love’s expression changed from startled annoyance to confusion. Bucky wished he would smile, but as his vision faded, he realized it didn’t matter. Steve’s face was beautiful no matter what expression it wore.

oOoOoOoOo

“Peter,” Barnes called as he climbed up the stairs of a rickety wooden castle. “You left this in my car,” he said, holding up the infamous storybook. Then he saw the castle had a perfect view of the clock tower. “Still 8:15, huh?”

“I shouldn’t have been so angry with you,” Peter said. He looked dejected. “In front of that tower, it’s just, I thought, if I brought you here, the clock would move, and you would remember. But how could you, when you don’t even know?”

“Know what?” Barnes asked. He wanted to tell Peter that he was sorry, that he wouldn't have left him, but Peter was probably tired of adults telling him things. So, listen he would.

“And when it moved, we would find my mother,” Peter continued. “I've looked, but I can't find her. She loved us so much, she was so happy Sir Stephen had sent you through the wardrobe. He didn’t know what he was doing, he thought you were dead, and he wanted to let you protect me, one last time. But that was never your job.”

Barnes suddenly found it harder to breathe, but let the boy continue.

The kid sighed. “I used to think that I was special, that I was the chosen one. But I was wrong. I'm not. You are.”

“Forget about me for a minute!” Barnes interrupted, sharper than he’d intended. “Peter, your parents…”

“Just listen,” Peter said, talking over him. “You feel guilty, and you shouldn’t. You never meant to give me up, and my mother, she… never wanted to. She never wanted to hurt either of us. She just wanted to give me my best chance.”

Barnes sighed and put an arm around the little boy. “I'm sure you're right, kid. Look, your father isn't perfect, and neither am I. But he chose you, you see? I don't think a day goes by that your mother doesn't miss you, but she must have thought he was your best chance."

“Do you?” Peter asked. “Do you think he is?”

“I think, I know, that family always finds each other.” When Peter looked at him skeptically, Barnes shook the boy gently. “Kid, where’s that faith, huh? You found me, didn’t you? You have to go home now, though. Your mom— your other mom, is real worried about you.” 

He hopped down from the castle.

"Wait!" Peter shouted with such desperation that Barnes turned.

“Please, don’t take me back to him,” Peter begged. “Stay one week, that's all I ask, please don’t think I’m crazy.”

Barnes threw up his hands. “I have to get you back to your Mom!”

“You can’t just leave us with him!” Peter shouted, angry again. “You don’t know what he’s like! Our life sucks. Please, just stay for a week. For Steve. For me.”

“Your life sucks,” Barnes said in disbelief, “Your life sucks, kid, please, at least you have people who care about you! And what does your teacher have to do with anything?”

“One week.” Peter begged. “One week, and if you still think I’m crazy, then leave. But, we can help each other, don’t you see? I can help you find your family.”

The bounty hunter shook his head. “I’m sorry. I have to take you back.”

oOoOoOoOo

Natalia limped down the corridor, allowing Hawkeye to take most of her weight. The fighting was over, they had lost, and black fog was seeping through the castle level by level. Toying with them.

The world was silent, but when they stepped through the door to the courtyard, it roared to life. Natalia was torn from Hawk's arms and restrained by two guards wearing the Crown of Thorns insignia. She didn’t even have time to scream before a blast of white light felled the hunter, killing him instantly.

“That wasn’t the deal, little spider,” a familiar voice tsked, as she struggled and kicked. “It was a clever ploy, sending the baby with the soldier rather than your husband,” her uncle admitted, sword gesturing to Stephen's unconscious body. "But useless. I will find them both."

“How,” Natalie whimpered pitifully to hide her confusion. "How did I break our deal?” She dropped the act. “You never said I couldn’t build a magic wardrobe to get my loved ones to safety.”

“Little bitch,” Alexei snapped, then breathed in deeply through his nose. “The act is meaningless. No human can go through the passage with memories intact, wardrobe or no wardrobe, and I was never going to kill your loved ones, just control them."

Natalie stared at him blankly. He thought the wardrobe was supposed to preserve memories?

Black fog swirled around the Bitter Prince as he laughed. He’d always had a flair for the dramatic. Yet Natalia Romanova, Queen of the Enchanted Forest, Princess of Spiders and Grand Duchess of Muscovia had a smile on her face as she dragged herself over to her huntsman and cradled his head on her lap.

“Did you hear that, love?” she whispered, pressing her face to his as smoke and stars whirled around them. “He went through first.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

Pierce opened the door to Barnes’s knock. Peggy drew Peter away, probably for a lecture, leaving the bounty hunter and the Senator to talk.

“It seems I owe you my thanks,” Pierce said graciously enough, but Barnes could see that he was seething. “My wife explained everything.” 

“Did she?” Barnes asked, ignoring the Senator’s outstretched hand. “Want to hear something strange? It was my birthday yesterday. Right before Peter showed up…”

“I have no interest in your stories, Mr. Barnes,” the Senator interrupted, smile still pleasant. “I deal in facts. Fact: I will not allow you back into my son’s life. In the last decade, my wife and I have changed every diaper, soothed every fever, endured every tantrum…”

“Your wife maybe,” Barnes interrupted baldly. “But not you.”

Pierce’s eyes turned to ice. “Well that’s just unnecessarily personal.” A shiver ran down Barnes’s spine. “Get out of town, Mr. Barnes. This is your one chance.”

“Do you love them?” Barnes asked. “Your son, Peggy, do you…”

The door to the mausoleum slammed shut. The bounty hunter stared at it for a second, then walked down the garden path and across the street to his car. He tossed his keys from hand to hand, considering. Then he got in, started the engine, and drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue, and I should start posting episode 2 soon. It's in the editing process.


	5. Epilogue.

Finding Storybrooke's one hotel wasn't difficult, as signs all the way down the road offered tidbits such as “Honeymoon Suite Available Half-Price at Pepper’s Bed and Breakfast, This Week Only!” and “Try Grandma May’s Old Shepherd’s Pie, get a drink for Free!”

Leaves chased each other on the front porch of the small inn. When Barnes opened the door, a bell rang, but the redheaded woman behind the desk didn't look up.

“Look, hon, I know what I said, but I just can't leave Storybrooke right now," the woman said, voice sharp with annoyance. "You know the business is all I have left of her!"

Barnes approached the desk cautiously, as the redhead appeared to be arguing with herself. Closer inspection revealed a Bluetooth.

“Here for a room?” a voice behind him asked. He jumped, turning to see another woman whose own red hair was a couple shades darker than that of the proprietor.

“Pepper!” the slight woman yelled, then disappeared when the woman behind the desk glanced up. Barnes coughed to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m going to have to let you go," she said, waving Barnes forward. "No, Tony, I have a customer. Yeah. Really. Well, if I mean so much to you, then why don't you come to Storybrooke?!”

“So you’re the new guy huh?” 

Barnes managed not to startle this time, but still couldn't manage a coherent response. Luckily, the slight redhead didn't seem to expect one. She handed a huge ledger to the woman behind the desk. The woman thanked her, then looked up with a smile.

“Hi! Sorry about all that, my name is Pepper, and this is Nadine. Would you like a forest view, or a square view?”

“Uh….”

But Pepper was smiling as if he’d given her an in-depth analysis of the merits of both rooms. “Normally there’s an upgrade fee for the square view, but, as you’ve expressed an interest, I think we can waive it.”

“Square’s fine,” Barnes agreed, bemused.

“Great,” Pepper said. “Name?”

"James Barnes. Call me Bucky," he added automatically. Barnes frowned, unsettled. Where had that last part come from? 

“Bucky?” Barnes turned to see a young man with long black hair and green eyes studying him. With an old-fashioned suit and fob watch, he looked as if he'd missed the casting call for a Sherlock Holmes film. “Now there’s an unusual name.”

“Err… that is… thanks?” Barnes turned back to the desk in time to see Nadine take out an envelope. She offered it to the dark-haired man, who reached to take it, but Nadine held it back. Their eyes locked, and the silence became awkward.

“Rho!” Pepper snapped. 

The younger woman let go of the envelope without a word.

“Well, enjoy your stay, Bucky” said black-hair, still glaring at her. The door clanged shut behind him.

“Who was that?” he asked Nadine while Pepper fussed with the paperwork.

“Mr. Odinson. He owns this place.”

Barnes frowned. “The inn?”

“The town,” Nadine corrected grimly. 

“So, Mr. Barnes, how long will you be with us?” Pepper interrupted hastily.

“A week. Just a week,” Barnes emphasized, more for his benefit than theirs.

Pepper took a key from the rack behind her and handed it to him with a professional smile. “Welcome to Storybrooke.”

 

The sky was already dark when a young woman exited the inn, waving to its proprietor. Then, she walked purposefully through the murky streets, ignoring the other night-crawlers, not stopping until she came to a large building with clear glass doors.

Fluorescent lights briefly shone off dark red hair as the night-clerk let her in to the hospital. She brushed past him and up the stairs, towards the general ward, leaving vases of white flowers by the beds as she went. Then she reached the long-term care unit, set a vase by the bedside of an unconscious blond man, and paused before a window.

The clock chimed nine. Her lips curved in a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) Also, constructive criticism is always appreciated.


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